This New Year hails the return of your quarterly class letter. Frankly, I just could not bring myself to overwrite the photos of that spectacular weekend in June when eighty of the Class of 1968 returned to Wabash. The smiles tell the story.
Bruce Gras is moving those photos to his (our) website www.Wabash68.org and invites your input. If you have photos or stories about Wabash 1968 of archival or entertainment value, shoot them over to me or to Bruce at [email protected].
I hope everyone had great holidays. My gang did. Santa was kind, and we enjoyed excellent visits with dear friends. Oldest son, Jesse, had a close call in Iraq on Christmas Eve, but he’s okay. He lost three friends from his platoon on that day.
A lot is going on at Old Wabash, and I will touch on the news, with links if you seek more information. I have expanded the texture of Classmember Updates, offering a deeper look into the lives of men whose time you shared. Finally I offer a story Liz, Jim, Matthew, Joshua, Will, Seth from undergrad days that might remind you of a tale we could enjoy.
News from Campus:
Rev. Jason Reed ‘68 has informed us that his wife, Ann, is doing very well after her serious illness that kept them from Big Bash. Great news, Jason!
Doug Morton '68 sends, “I thought that I should let the alumni office know that I did not run for re‐election as Fulton Circuit Court Judge this year. I have served as judge for 30 years, but starting at the first of the year I shall be starting new endeavors; the only real problem is that I don't know what they are going to be. I do know that I shall be a Senior Judge (rather like a substitute teacher) for at least 30 days per year, and that I'm taking some family time early. Our sixth grandchild is due in February, in Orlando.”
Wabash BLOGS: http://www2.wabash.edu/blog/ On the top of the list, President Pat White has added his perspective. I especially like the archivist (Beth Swift) and the almost daily effort by the Grunge. If you have a few minutes to surf and nestle back into the Wabash culture, you will find almost thirty ways to do it. You can even find Wabash Chapel Speech Podcasts with a bit of effort.
Closing of Delta Tau Delta. After the death of a freshman, Johnny Smith of Tucson on October 5, President Patrick White released a letter on November 6 saying, “This morning, Dean Mike Raters, Associate Dean of Students Rick Warner, and I informed the students living in the Delta Tau Delta fraternity that the College has decided to withdraw its recognition of the Beta Psi chapter and terminate the lease of the property at 603 West Wabash Avenue. Further Delta Tau Delta activities of any kind are strictly prohibited. This decision was reached after considerable investigation and conversation. From recruitment to the beginning of pledgeship and through traditions and ritual, we have discovered at Delta Tau Delta a culture and practice of ungentlemanly behavior and irresponsible citizenship, which are inconsistent with Wabash's Gentleman's Rule, mission, and core values.” On the web www.Linkedin.com under Wabash College Alumni/Discussions has an informative thread giving various view on these events. (You may have to join to read, but it seems free and painless.) More information should follow the completion of formal investigations.
Professor Bill Placher ’70 passed away suddenly at the end of November. Search the Wabash site for numerous accolades and stories of this amazing Wabash man.
New Athletic Facilities will include a baseball stadium, a soccer stadium, a renovated Byron P. Hollett Little Giant Stadium, including a new playing surface, new football practice fields, new outdoor intramural spaces, and a renovated Collett Tennis Center.
Media Director Howard Hewitt proclaims, “President Patrick White announced a $375,000 Lilly Endowment Inc. grant on December 9, which will create the Business Leadership Program. The Lilly grant will be matched with $1.52 million in institutional funds to develop the program over a five‐year period. Lu Hamilton, who has worked with the marketing and business immersion programs, will be working to assure the program's success.”
Football team won the conference and made the second round of Division III national playoffs under new Coach Erik Raeburn, a graduate of Mt. Union, the eventual winner this season. Great job, Coach. Now, let’s find a way to beat those pesky Dannies. The considerable success of the Monon Bell underdog is uncanny.
Wrestling Team continues the winning tradition that Max Servies was legend for. Coach Brian Anderson sent a Wrestling Alumni Newsletter that points out that Wabash had top 30 National finishes in 2005 and 2007, were NCAA Midwest Regional Champions in 2005, were Mid‐States Conference Champions in 2005 and 2007, and have an overall record of 561‐195‐9. Check their blog!
Wabash themed license plates for Indiana residents are easier than ever to obtain. Click http://www.wabash.edu/alumni/plates
Referrals to Wabash: If you know a young man who might be Wabash material, please refer him to the Admissions Office. Click www.wabash.edu/alumni/student/refer.
Contributing to Wabash: Clearly, from the mail I receive, Wabash was hit hard by the current economic crisis. They need help. So, as a reminder for folks who are inclined to contribute, here is some information from Larry Griffith on where your money goes: College Expenditures – $40.54 mm ‐ Personnel – 45% ‐ Facilities and equipment – 33% ‐ Programs –22% Total Revenues ‐ $40.54 mm ‐ Investment income – 52% ‐ Student related income – 19% (tuition payments) ‐ Gifts and Grants – 17% ‐ Misc. ‐ 12% (including room and board and Bookstore income) Notes: 1. Wabash continues to support deserving students spending a little over $12 mm in Grants and Scholarships funded by the College. 2. The Annual Fund accounts for 7.6% of the College’s total revenue ‐ a significant portion. 3. Prudent use of Endowment assets would call for the amount to be taken out of the endowment for spending on operations should not be greater than the net earnings of the endowment ( interest, dividends, plus market growth) less annual inflation. 4. A volatile market and or high inflation can significantly impact the College’s financial position as these directly impact the performance of the Endowment investments. 5. A steady growth in the Annual Fund is necessary for long term growth and strength.
Classmember Updates: My first few weeks at Wabash told me I was surrounded by independent thinkers and purposefully motivated individuals—a unique and strong band of brothers. That experience continues as I learn more about those men, forty years later. Instead of the shallow snippets of information, I have asked for a thousand words or better (plus photos) of three of your Wabash brethren. First are the two individuals most responsible for your uplifting experience at Big Bash 08, Chairman Jim Millikin and technical magician Bruce Gras. They sent great stories, and I expect to hear expanded versions next time we meet. Also, Iron Mike Gallagher was able to find Jeff Kennedy, who disappeared off all our radars after his freshman years at the Beta House. His name came up every year in the après ski Beta gatherings, as we reviewed the graceful maturing and machinations of our brethren. No one ever knew what became of Jeff, but you will after you read his amazing mini‐memoir.
About Your Reunion Chairman, Jim Millikin: Helen and I met at our Junior Senior prom‐‐her date and I were on the planning committee. We dated through college, and she graduated from IU. I proposed to her on the Senior Bench at Wabash. She knew Ed Haenisch real well and as a child played in his office with his daughter. She used to roller skate with Elizabeth Haenisch down the walk from Waugh Hall toward the Bright Funeral Home. Helen taught in elementary school for a couple of years until Cathy was born and then also ran a pre‐ school for five years until Carrie hit her pre teen years. We celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary last August.
Right after graduation I went to Ft. Benning and went through a ROTC version of basic training—then on to Notre Dame where I had two years left in ROTC. After I finished the MBA I went to work for Peat Marwick Mitchell (now KPMG) in South Bend. Really the only reason I’m a CPA is that PMM was one of the few people who would interview you if you had a ROTC commitment. My oldest daughter Cathy was born in April 1970 just before graduation. After seven months I went on active duty. I was one of the lucky ones, my orders to Viet Nam were cancelled because they were letting everyone out early and I wouldn’t have had enough time in country.
I ended up in a pretty good job in the Army—with the Combat Development Command. We started the Abrams tank and the Cheyenne helicopter. I ended up getting out in July 1972 and went back to South Bend and back to work for PMM. Jennifer (Jenna) was born in 1973. In 1978 I transferred to the Rockford Illinois office of PMM and stayed there until the end of 1982—right after my youngest daughter, Carrie, was born in late October.
I worked for a few months for a large house wares company (Newell Corp) and that didn’t work out at all. I started my own CPA practice in late 1983. The practice has gone thru several changes—up to six different names now. In 1988 I also started teaching at Rockford College— ended up teaching for 17 years, 15 full time. I retired as a full professor in May 2005. Since then we have been building the practice. It grew 300+% from 2001 to 2007. We are predominantly audit oriented, not tax like a lot of small firms. We audit a lot of not‐for‐profit and governmental units.
On July 1, 2008 we merged with Sikich LLP a large firm in Aurora. That has been interesting and fun. The support we get is in the areas where we were too small to have pros helping. I’m committed to stay on for at least two years—probably will stay three or so after this fall’s meltdown.
PMM was hiring a lot of liberal arts graduates at the time in 1970—they wanted people who could talk something other than accounting. Chuck Kraft and I both worked for PMM—I actually worked with him at the Alberto‐Culver audit in 1972.
As I was telling an interviewee recently, my background as a speech major has helped me almost every day of my career. Joe O’Rourke’s Argumentation and Debate (Speech 4) was great preparation for arguing something like an allowance for bad debts with a client. Every meeting I attend, both with clients and on boards where I serve (as Treasurer—surprise), I think about Vic Powell’s Discussion and Conference Leadership class (Speech 3). When I was teaching and we went through curriculum revisions in the accounting department, I made sure that a speech course was required for accounting majors—the requirement is still there.
The daughters are pretty much on their own now. Cathy and Jenna both went to DePauw—a good choice since they couldn’t get in to Wabash. Cathy has a PhD from UC‐Davis and lives there with her attorney husband and their two children—a little boy 3 and ½ and a little girl born last May. Jenna teaches math at a local high school and has two stepchildren. Her husband owns a gaming center where you can rent time on PCs or X‐boxes. Youngest daughter Carrie is single and is a ballerina for David Taylor Dance Troupe in Denver. I occasionally get to see her and usually have dinner with a ND classmate whom I first met on the rifle range at Ft. Benning. Jim Millikin ‘68 * * * The next bio comes from another super‐talented leader of your reunion corps, Bruce Gras:
Bad Penny
Math, what’s it good for? Couldn’t say that night, but the taxi didn’t seem right. Dang, I was really sloshed after just getting back from flirting with the Chinese border doing signal intelligence in the high Himalayas for the last couple of months or so. Math’s good for that sort of thing, and I was a math major back in college, but now all I wanted to do was dumb down. Karma, Hari and the rest of my team were doing the whole night at the Big Foot bar. Me? A quiet solo dinner at the Yak & Yeti Hotel was all I needed to unwind. And then, simply get back to my villa and crash. Karma, my driver, said he would have an agency friend pick me up in a cab, but the taxi that picked me up didn’t seem right. There were 2 guys up front, and they were Asian, not Hindi. I managed to get my safe word out. Yankees. The driver asked if that was my favorite team. Oh boy I thought, this was going to be a problem. My hand slipped down my right leg to retrieve the three inch Gerber from its ankle holster. Real smart? No. I was bringing a knife to a likely gunfight. But it was all I had. That and a really good buzz!
We went toward my villa in the diplomatic zone of Kathmandu, and then we passed it. Dead ahead was the new Chinese embassy. This definitely was going downhill, and I had to do something. Just as I was starting to thrust my Gerber forward into the driver . . . bam! The taxi was smashed into by a big truck coming out of an alley, hitting it up front on the right side. I first bounced off the right door, was thrown over toward the left side as the car violently rocked, almost turning over, and was tossed back the other way as the taxi was righting itself. Before I even hit the right side again, the door In the Himalayas was opened, and I was grabbed by my collar and dragged out and back down the street like a mail bag, past one, two and even three cars. I was thrown into the back of the fourth one, in a cavity under the back passenger seat. As that seat was being pushed back down, I ventured to say Yankees again, and with no pause, heard the lilting Hindi voice of the driver simply say Maris. And then I shut up knowing that I was in the good hands.
The seat was quickly dropped on me, and two guys who had pretended to get up and out of the back to gawk at the accident, promptly jumped back in and closed their doors just in time for the big show. The Chinese embassy’s flood lights came on to shine on the crash scene. Soldiers from the embassy were going down the line of cars poking and probing . . . undoubtedly looking for me. Later, I would find out that plain clothes Chinese operatives were staking out the entrance to my villa, so there was no way for me to stay in Nepal any more.
Long story short, I was quickly and unceremoniously lifted out of Kathmandu and dropped into Rangoon, Burma by Nepal’s security guys, the same ones who extricated me. The King of Nepal wanted no trouble with the Chinese, but he couldn’t afford to anger the Americans either. So, I was essentially trash that had to be disposed of without his fingerprints on any of it publicly. Fortunately, my handlers caught up with me in Rangoon and got me home. So, what’s math good for? Sometimes, not much at all. But, I do have a deep and abiding affection for baseball now!
And you would think that someone who went to Wall Street after college and grad school as a Geek would not have found himself in that kind of situation. Truth of the matter is that Wall Street was probably as treacherous in the 70’s. I found myself in an over‐priced and over‐privileged industry that was choking on its own success in its back offices since it never invested in the technology to handle its growing volume of business. I ended up, however, carving out a safe and prosperous niche with my math in bond trading with institutional customers such as mutual and pension funds. I designed and built trading systems that worked amazingly well, so much so that institutional investors re‐directed tons of business to my company, Shearson American Express (and later Shearson Lehman Brothers), On a Magazine Cover and I was featured on a few magazine covers as well.
Who would have thought that I would end up doing that out of school when I started as a Pre‐Med at Wabash? Nonetheless, Dr Mielke, then Chairman of the Wabash Math Department, knew the Chairman of the Mathematics Dept at the University of Chicago, Professor Saunders McLane, and they conspired to have me switch my major as I entered my junior year. Why would that even occur to either of them? It is not without some grim recollection that I have to mention that I spent my afternoons after elementary school let out in Professor McLane’s office where my mother was his secretary. Before I could go out and play some, he would put up a math problem for me to solve. Arrrgh! All I wanted to do was get outside and goof around. So, I got pretty good at knocking those problems down, and he got pretty good at continuously raising the bar just enough to keep me in the office for awhile to keep me out of mischief. The result was that when I entered High School, I was already doing advanced college level math, and I just went on from there. When Dr. Mielke discovered this, and after talking with Professor McLane about what he thought I could really do, he persuaded me to make the change in my major from Biology to Mathematics . . . but in the 3rd week of my junior year. What a grind I got into with that! I had to take my 1st and 3rd semesters of Calculus at the same time along with Linear Algebra and all of it with a three week handicap. In the end, I got it done, pushed through comps with success and went to the University of Chicago (surprise?) School of Business, double majoring in Finance and Operations Research.
Maybe the more surprising thing is that my career has been carried on the backbone of Math ever since. I left Wall Street with a handsome cash‐out from all that trading system stuff. I did the same in the Artificial Intelligence industry right after that using math to extend machine learning. And then, I started to put in my government service in the mid‐80’s and continue to do that today doing math things that remain leading and sometimes bleeding edge efforts. However, I have always also indulged in great escapist fun such as blue‐water fishing, After Fishing off Miami safari hunting, aerobatic flying, and golfing at resort getaways. Ironically, retirement does not loom ahead for me as it would for most of the folks in my age bracket. I am still doing and expect to continue to do contract applied research in mathematics, specifically in mathematical statistics and predictive analytics. However, I am deliberately working in a small company now as well to have some fun building Gail, My Better Half business around these math efforts in the areas of Enterprise Architecture and Enterprise Resource Management. As I turn this corner of life with my wonderful wife, Bad Penny Today Gail, and a growing population of grandchildren, I feel much enriched and fulfilled these many years since I graduated from Wabash. So, if I ask myself as before: Math, what’s it good for? That is easy to say . . . a very satisfying and sometimes quite adventurous life! And it just keeps me coming back when and where most folks would least expect me to end up . . . like a Bad Penny.
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John Jeffrey Kennedy, Beta Theta Pi, Class of 1968 Here are links to three facebook albums! ‐of me & friends: ://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid http =37607&l=47546&id=741812923 ‐of where I live: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=37844&l=00eb9&id=741812923 ‐just back from short trip to Portugal: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=49473&l=b0995&id=741812923
Flying Free the World Shall See As with that giant of Modernism, Ezra Pound (professor here a century ago, for all of four months – some scandal involving a sleepover in his room), my path intersected only briefly with Wabash. Still, it’s potentially illuminating to contemplate how my sojourn may have influenced what was to follow. A telling point of departure might be that core experience seared into my neuronal synapses: the rote memorization, as a pot-topped rhyne, of Old Wabash, so aggressively drilled in that it must have had the impact of brainwashing on my post-adolescent nervous system, its juggernaut melody and nostalgic imagery so instilled that its effects reverberate even now. It’s tempting to ascribe to those rollicking lyrics an untamed template for a life of flat-out adventure.
To the Western Plain “Go West, young man.” Or, Jim Morrison’s hipper version: “The West is the best.” I arrived at Stanford in sun-baked autumn, the sky a startlingly deep electric-blue, for the start of my sophomore year. Immediately I felt the magnetic charge, not only of the overwhelming beauty of the Bay Area, but also of the vibrant upheaval burgeoning all around. Something was happening in Northern California, as nowhere else, explorations and celebrations of human potential that sought a new direction for life on planet Earth. The mind-expanding music, The Pill-era liberation, even the political fury, all embodied visions of a fulfilled, or at least less uptight, humanity. Riding high, as quick as a toke, I became radicalized and had my button- down mind well and truly blown. Wow. I met Joan Baez, Ken Kesey, Alan Watts, Timothy Leary, Paul Goodman and other movers and shakers in the topsy-turvy effervescence that was San Francisco at that moment in history. I turned on, I tuned in, but I did not drop out of conventionality altogether. I eagerly continued the intellectual focus of my studies in arts and letters and won my B.A. right on schedule – despite the extracurricular demands of the epoch, which included, to be sure, sit-ins and other protests, as well as be-ins and other free-love palimpsests.
We Love to Sit as the Shadows Flit In 1973, Indianapolis favorite-son Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., published a satiric novel Breakfast of Champions, in which one of the characters practices Transcendental Meditation, as taught by Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. By then, I had been enthusiastically practicing TM myself for over four years. Yes, that was the same Maharishi who, in 1968 at his ashram on the Ganges, taught the Beatles, Donovan, Mia Farrow, the Beach Boys, and others who were to become my friends. I learned TM a few months after graduating from Stanford, and following a summer gallivanting around Europe and a stint working in publishing, decided to become a full-time teacher of the technique in 1970. Pursuing a course of study of several months with Maharishi, first in Maine, then Austria, then Colorado, I finally hung out my shingle in Palo Alto. Overnight, thousands of people from all walks of life wanted to learn how to free their systems of stress by closing their eyes and sitting quietly for some minutes twice a day. And so it went, in various phases, for nearly ten years. I spent time with Maharishi in Mallorca, Italy, Switzerland, and all around the US, and in the course of my association with him and the international movement, I would, among other things, appear on television as a spokesman for TM; edit books about the theory behind the technique; participate in studies analyzing its physiological effects; receive a Masters degree in Education from the new, meditation-based university in Iowa; and teach drawing and painting there as an Instructor.
To the Light of the Southern Seas Post-TM, I was once again on the move. I had visited Europe any number of times, sometimes for months together, but suddenly I knew it was now or never if I wanted to live there, and I did. In September of 1983, off I flew to London, which became my springboard for freewheeling jaunts to Greece, Italy, Holland, Austria and France. Come Easter, the perpetual gray drizzle of England had me longing for the island of Crete, where I took a house on top of a mountain overlooking the Libyan Sea and spent my days hiking and swimming and painting. Evenings I would have dinner with my expat friends down at the port, where I was also the DJ in the village disco. My six months there seemed like a century, no, a millennium. In fact, I often literally forgot what year it was, blissed-out amidst the dazzling dream of Greece. In September, a call came from friends in Rome: Would I come and help run a radio station, with programs in seven languages? Simpatico!
For nearly twenty years thereafter, Rome was home. I got to know an unforgettable array of creative people from all over the world, not least a set of eccentric Italian aristocrats, and it was also in the Eternal City that I came across the greatest opportunities to play out so much of my own creative potential: I had a sell-out show of the artwork I had done in Crete; worked as a print model, as an actor in TV commercials and movies, and even as a singer; wrote, edited and produced audiovisual and multimedia courses; worked as a translator; wrote and produced multilingual audioguides for Italian museums; and for the past ten years I’ve been writing guidebooks about Italy and other destinations. After Rome, I lived for some years in Barcelona, where essentially I discovered that I could be profoundly happy entirely on my own. And then, several years ago, I became part of a small B&B operation in the South of France, a petit paradis just a sunbeam away from the Mediterranean Sea . . .
Wishing radiant health and happiness to all, Jeffrey * * *
A Wabash Story‐‐Send ’em if you Got ‘em By Jim Roper That Friday night in November of freshman year was too cold to forget. Twas the night before the Monon Bell Game, and I trudged out of the Beta House into the frozen darkness with my assigned partner and great friend, Roger Elliott, aka the Kendallville Flash. Mission number one of all Rhynes that night was to guard the campus from Dannie mischief. Our post was Crawford Street, not far from Dean Moore’s house. We had a view of the west end of the football field, which we assumed to be a primary target. Mission number 1a was to build a survival fire in the rusted 55‐gallon drum we sat found. After collecting limbs and wood scraps, I asked Roger, “Have you done the reading for CC? Charlemagne’s travels?” We shared a Contemporary Civilization quiz section at eight the next morning. “Nope. You?” “Yeah, I got a shot a B in there.” “So start talking.” Roger smiled, I laughed, and this chem major, punctuated by wood‐gathering patrols, began an all night lecture on the history of the Middle Ages. Roger wanted details, and I remember his particular fascination with the drawing and quartering of the traitor Ganelon. Bleary and blinded by the sun’s early rays, we marched directly from our frozen guard post to Baxter Hall. Dean WW “Butch” Shearer was in his element, glaring from the head of the heavy wooden table in his stiffly starched white shirt and dark tie. “So, tell me about Charlemagne’s problems with the Saracens.” “He killed almost all of them, sir,” Roger blurted. “Converted the rest to Christianity.” Dean Shearer’s quick smile clearly encouraged Roger to go on. And go he did. A hand went up, but fell in defeat to Roger’s description of the destruction of the Basques at Pamplona. At times I laughed up my sleeve, which I’m sure earned me negative points with the good Dean. Woozy from lack of sleep, I could only wonder if the past 12 hours could happen anywhere but Wabash.
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Thanks, guys! Send me your news and contribute to Wabash if you can. We’ll try again in three months.
Jim Roper ‘68 Your Class Agent